


Blinded by the Lights

by Zeath



Series: Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dancer Stiles Stilinski, Flexible Stiles Stilinski, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Money, NSFW, Sexual Tension, So Much Money, Stripper Stiles Stilinski, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23409655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeath/pseuds/Zeath
Summary: Prompt: “Put on a show for me.”Where Stiles is a stripper and Peter is his favorite patron.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Prompt Fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683955
Comments: 19
Kudos: 251





	Blinded by the Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! sorry it's been so fucking long since i last updated anything or posted a fic, but now with the whole shit that's going down right now, I've got a lot of time on my hands!

The heat of the stage lights was bringing forth sweat, beading on Stiles’ forehead already as he stepped onto the platform. Predatory eyes were observing him from all angles, most were greasy middle-aged men who most likely had wives at home who didn’t know where their husbands were, or where their hard-earned money was being thrown at. Stiles put that out of his mind when he saw the same cold, blue eyes staring at him.

Blue Suit was his favorite, and he was pretty sure the man felt the same, considering he was always around whenever it was Stiles’ turn to get on the stage. He would also tip over two hundred dollars a dance, he obviously had a boat load of cash to give away and he chose Stiles to give it to. Not that he was complaining; Blue Suit was single-handedly paying his rent. So Stiles did what any stripper would do when he was on the job, he focused on the music and ignored all the jibes and jeers from the patrons around him.

The beat was paced with the odd addition of piano, but enough to keep it easy for him to take off his clothes. He had done this song for a few days now, and had practised it several days before so that Blue Suit would stay focused on his every move. The rhythm started off strong, with Stiles spinning around before dropping to his knees, hips thrusting in the air and leaning back so his neck was exposed to the patrons salivating over him. He rolled onto his stomach, spreading his legs and pushing himself up to arch his back in the perfect presentation of his assets before jumping up on his feet once more. Grabbing the hem of his low riding shirt; a flimsy thing that wasn’t really hiding much of anything in his opinion, but the boss wanted him to show off before he even got naked so Stiles didn’t complain, it meant he wasn’t overheating by the lights anyway. He pulled it up to the beat, his hips swaying to accentuate and it came over his head showing off his perking nipples and his belly ring, he threw the material out to the crowd and tried not to look at who it landed on or what they’d do with it later on in the night while they were alone and drunk. 

With the music going strong, Stiles brought his hands to his stomach, scratching his skin with his nails and he dragged them up to his chest, sighing at the pleasurable sting it brought forth. He spun once more before grabbing at his hair, messing it up with his fingers to ensure he appeared to have thoroughly fucked-out hair, he knew a lot of his patrons had a thing with making him look like a mess at the end of his shows; they’d tip him more, cheer or whistle at him. Hands landed on his hips and thumbs hooked under the waistband of his pants; he remembered when he used to wear actual trousers or shorts to his performances and the mess it caused trying to get out of those fuckers. Instead, he was glad his boss gave him the tearing ones so when Stiles got to the chorus of his song, he tugged and heard the material rip and break free from the constraints of his legs.

There were wolf whistles from the crowd as Stiles bared himself to them, tossing his now ripped pants to the patrons and rolled his hips. He was nearly bare to the men drooling over him; just in a simple light blue g-string that he knew made his pale skin glow and dotted moles pop. Stiles caught eyes with Blue Suit, the man was sipping his whiskey neat with eyes never failing to make Stiles feel as is he was being pinned. He raised one of his perfectly arching eyebrows at Blue Suit before dropping to his knees at the back of the stage, knowing this was the verse where it slows down enough for him to prowl his way across the stage to the front where he knew the man would obviously sit. Stiles’ hips were high on purpose, every time he crawled he would sway to show off how toned his ass was, and the thin material of blue protecting his hole from the predatory gazes of the patrons. This was also the perfect time for them to reach out and slip notes into his underwear; most were flimsy wads of dollar notes, some would slip a fifty between his cheeks though if they were feeling confident enough. It didn’t matter though; he was too blinded by lust and knew the only destination he needed to get to was Blue Suit.

When he finally, _finally_ got to the front of the stage, Stiles kneeled up and spread his legs so that Blue Suit would get an eyeful of what he can’t touch – who is he kidding, he would wrap his legs around that thick neck any day of the week – and allowed the beat of the chorus come back through him, gyrating his body this way and that in a tasteful way that made the patrons around him wish Stiles was dancing for them. He knew in this moment that he only had eyes for Blue Suit, who uncrossed his legs and set his glass of whisky on the table next to him, reaching into this jacket pocket and revealing a massive handful of cash, leaning forward so he could run a finger down Stiles’ sweaty stomach, not caring one bit.

He tucked the wad of cash under Stiles’ g-string with a glint in his eye, pulling his hand back knowing he could only touch the boy for a limited amount of time. Stiles was still rocking his body to the music, his face pink with exertion and arousal with his cameral tinted eyes focusing on Blue Suit’s blue hues. The man mouthed something; for all he knew he could have spoken it properly but the music was too loud for anyone to have a proper conversation in this situation. He caught Blue Suit’s lips though, thanking his father who taught him how to lip read – though Stiles doesn’t think his father taught him so he could talk to scorchingly hot patrons at a strip club, but he digresses. “Put on a show for me.”

He hoped the man could lip read in return as he slid onto his stomach and humped his hips to the floor, rolling onto his back and lifting his chest up as his head rested off the stage. He was confident no one would try anything, lifting his legs off the stage until they spread in the air and his shoulders were balancing on the stage keeping him looking graceful yet flexible. Just what his boss wanted him to appear as to the clients throwing money at him every night, they all dreamed on him being the desirable twink who could bend every which way they wanted. Stiles only had eyes for Blue Suit though, wondering what kind of show _he_ could put on given the chance. He looked at the man’s face upside down and spoke, knowing the music would drown out his voice. “Watch me.”

Blue Suit’s face grew into a smirk as he lifted his glass back up, raising it to Stiles before taking a sip, letting the boy pull his body back up on the stage properly to finish the song. He stepped backwards to the center of the stage, bending down to hug his knees before touching his palms the platform floor and lifting himself into a handstand, allowing his legs to bend and curve before finally lowering himself slowly into sitting on the stage crossed legged. The uproar of patrons cheering for him and the rustling of money fluttering through the air to the platform was what Stiles always enjoyed about the end of his song, standing up and bowing for the men he wouldn’t even remember the next night, and made his way to the door at the back of the stage, knowing there would be sweepers cleaning up his earnings for the night.

He was itchy, overheating, and sweaty. He wanted to get out of this g-string and into some real underwear, grab his money for the night and then head home so he can take a bath and watch Avengers for the sixtieth time. Heading to his mirror and wishing the next stripper good luck out there as they passed, Stiles started to pull all the notes out of his underwear, setting them on his desk. He cringed as he collected the massive handful from his crotch, a little damp from his sweat. Stiles blinked when he saw a card in the midst of fifties; sitting down and reading the words over and over with a grin on his face. It was a business card, simple dark red with a number printed on the bottom along with what must be Blue Suit’s real name attached. What got Stiles though, was the little note at the back of the card. _I want you, let me show you a good time, you call the shots – P.H._

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comment what you liked, what you think could be improved, gimme a kudos, and don't forget to subscribe for more sexy times!
> 
> If you would like to request a prompt, you can do so on my tumblr! zeathvonlauter !


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